Broken Idols
by Diamonddancer229
Summary: Oneshot idea fic where Albus muses over Draco Malfoy his guardian, and Draco muses over Albus's dark past with his father. Warning: Bad Harry, Disturbing Content


Broken Idols

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Disclaimer: J. has all rights in regards to the world of Harry Potter, I'm just writing for the fun of it. No money is or will be made on these fictions.  
Warnings: very dark disturbing fiction with heavy references to rape and underage sex, violence, drug and alcohol use, adult language, suicidal thoughts  
Summary:Harry is a alcoholic druggie that has lost everything but his beautiful son Albus, the quiet Slytherin, in a random DeathEater raid. No one knows just how bad Harry has gotten till Albus refuses to go home one day. The Malfoys step in a petition to foster the boy as Scorpius is Albus's only real friend. Albus has just turned eighteen and is graduated from Hogwarts and still resides with the Malfoys, and he thinks back on his past.

* * *

"No! I'm not going! You can't fucking make me!"

The Great Hall of Hogwarts fell silent, Harry Potter the DADA professor and his son, Albus the quiet Slytherin, faced off in the massive doorway. Albus slapped the desperate hand that tugged the sleeve of his school robes, and glared at his father, The Boy Who Lived. Scorpius rose at the Slytherin table concern on his face.

"Albus, please. Let's go talk in private, this is not the place," Harry hissed. He surveyed the room from the corner of his bloodshot eyes. The Headmistress, McGonagall, rose angrily and made her way to them.

"No! I don't ever want to be alone with you again! I hate you! I'm never going back there with you! You can't fucking make me!"

" , please!" McGonagall pleaded. She turned and clapped her hand loudly. "Prefects, please lead your housemates to your respective dorms, dinner will be arrange in the dormitories this night."

Scorpius ran through through the crowd of students suddenly pushing up from their tables with shuffling feet and wary glances to where the action played out. Albus was becoming so upset the cutlery and cups and plates were shaking on the long wooden tabletops. "Albus!" He shouted pushing his way forward despite McGonagall's pointed glare.

"Albus, please!" His father still begged.

"Albus!?" Scorpius shouted. He ran past Professor Potter and slammed into his trembling friend. "What's wrong Albus? What's happened, what he do?" Scorpius glared at his father. He never like Harry Potter, there was just something he couldn't place but he never liked hawklike, paranoid way he watched Albus, especially since Albus's mum other siblings had been murdered.

Albus collapsed against him and couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He began to cry in great stuttering burst, and he clutched his friend tightly hiding his face in the crook of Scorpius pale, warm neck. "Please, don't make me go back there Scor, I don't want too. I don't fucking want too! I'll fucking kill myself before I do!"

"What is the meaning of this Harry? Albus what is going on?" McGonagall snapped looking between the two. "Potter please see me in my office, Scorpius please escort Albus directly to Madam Pomfrey, he's to be placed on suicide watch effective immediately. Now!" She bellowed the last word, her tenuous grasp on her temper snapping.

Albus pulled his head from the Pensieve he kept in bottom drawer of his large desk. He watched the tiny figures moving around the rest of the memory, but he remembered all too well looking back at his pale, haggard father and seeing the terror of his secrets being exposed there. He remembered Scor casting a spell to make him virtually weightless and toting him to the hospital ward.

Albus sighed and poured himself a shot of Firewhiskey. He had woken from the terrible land of nightmares where his father ruled the darkness. He could hear the echoes of his helpless screams, and he threw back another shot to wash it all away with a fiery burn. He stood and left his suite of rooms. He wondered around the Malfoy's grand Manor as if it were his own, which he surmised it kind of was as they had adopted him when he was fourteen years old.

He walked and talked to the haughty portraits, they had stuck their nose in the air the first half year he'd been here but had come around, Scor always said he had an innate magnetism that made people adore him. He was on his way back from the kitchen and tin of delicate pastries clasped in his hands as he made his way back to the grand staircase, when he noticed the door of the study was open and a fire crackled warmly from it. He paused, not wanting to bother whom he assumed must be , or Draco as the older man often tried to get him to call him. Curiosity won out, as it was around two in the morning.

He knocked politely at the door and sure enough Mr. Malfoy straightened on the sofa in front of the fire and turned to face him. Albus had always admired Scor's father, the man was as beautiful and fey as graceful elf. The long white blonde hair that fell slightly past his shoulders, and his alabaster skin upheld the notion. Albus also liked the blatant concern written on those perfect aristocratic features. This man his mother and father, uncle Ron and aunt Hermoine, and all the Weasleys had detested, the man that saved him from his wasted Father, the man that had never lifted a finger to harm him in the four years he'd lived at the Manor.

He could see the same steamy appraisal hidden in those mercurial silver eyes, that had sometimes come into his father's glassy gaze, but Mr. Malfoy was always proper and reserved. He was always gentle when he spoke to Albus, he had always been, when Albus thought of his younger trips to the Manor to visit Scor during the holidays. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not disturbing you, Mr. Malfoy," he smiled stepping into the room and winding his way through the artfully arranged furniture. "I couldn't sleep..."

"You're not bothering me in the least Albus, I'm having a little of the same trouble," the elder Malfoy confessed. He rubbed his temple and sat a glass of amber liquid down on the table.

Albus liked that he never drank in front of him, it gave him comfort between those smoldering glances Scor's father gave him that he would at least be able to control himself. He sat beside Mr. Malfoy and slid his glass back in front of the blonde. "I trust you Mr.- Draco... What troubles you so, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I tell you what young Albus, I'll tell you my troubles if you tell me yours. It'll be therapeutic to both of us."

Albus chuckled and nodded. He plucked a pastry from his smuggled tin and bite into the delicious raspberry tartness and moaned. He watched Malfoy beneath his thick lashes, and smirked around his mouthful. The older man fidgeted restlessly but his gaze never left Albus's mouth, and a faint pink blush stained his cheeks when Albus darted his tongue out to lick jam from his lush red lips. He'd been told they were one of his sexiest features. "You first though."

"Of course, I...dreamed of some of those dark times during the war. Particularly some of he harder times when The Dark Lord resided at the Manor." Draco shuddered and tipped the rest of his drink down his throat.

"I'm sorry," Albus leaned against Malfoy's shoulder and the blonde hugged him automatically as he would his own son. It was distinctly parental, a far cry from the wanton looks he sometimes gave Albus when he thought no one was looking.

"Now, what was it that drove you from bed?"

Albus snuggled in further and peeked up at Scor's father. "I had- I was thinking of when I refused to go home with him..." He said him like it was a filthy curse. "I watched the memories."

"You should throw that thing in a vault somewhere or better yet destroy it. It's not old to dwell on-oh bother I suppose I should take my own advice. His hand rose and ran through Albus's long messy locks comfortingly. "What did the memories make you feel? Are you alright?"

Albus groaned in pleasure, Mr. Malfoy's nails tickling and soothing his hair in a methodically relaxing way. He took a moment to think about how his dark past made him feel now. "I'm fine. I still hate him. I'll never understand what he did to me. He was everyone's hero, but mine. His own son. I wish I could say that the death of Mum and Lily and James drove him crazy, but it started before that. It just- I'm not scared of him anymore."

"That's good. You shouldn't be." Malfoy shifted back against the couch and pulled Albus with him, fitting him into the crook of his arm, up against his side. "You father was always a hunted, abused man. It stands to reason eventually he would suffer for it. There is only so much one person can take, and many of us during the war were stretched far beyond that."

"You look sad," Albus murmured twisting around enough to press his fingers against the sharp angle of one of Malfoy's cheekbones.

The older man shuddered and leaned into the soft touch cautiously. "Perhaps, a bit."

"Have you ever looked at Scorpius and wanted him? Like my father did?" Albus asked suddenly. Scorpius was beautiful, as beautiful as people claimed Albus was. Only his was an icy, blonde, perfect beauty the complete opposite of Albus's dark, wild, unkempt beauty.

Mr. Malfoy spluttered and made to rise above him but Albus stopped him but winding his arms tightly around him. "It doesn't matter if you did, you didn't act on it and that's what makes a difference."

"I've never and would never think of my son that way. I suppose it used to be common among Purebloods, but the practice is loathsome to me."

Albus regretted asking and he wondered if he was as off limits as Scor to Scor's father. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I know you'd never harm Scorpius. He's very beautiful though. Good genes, I suppose." He added the last as an after thought.

"Albus," Malfoy sighed suddenly against his head causing dark chocolate locks to wisp about and tickle his nose.

Albus giggled and rubbed his face, brushing the hair back from his brow. "Yes?"

"You must stop this quiet seduction you are trying to siege on me. I've let it go on far too long. It's every bit as improper as you're fathers attentions."

Albus was so shocked by the current of rage that flashed through him the glass had been using shattered causing them both to jump. "Don't you dare say that was anything like this. You have been-you are nothing like him. You saved me from him!"

Draco Malfoy stood abruptly with Albus still have clinging to him. "I've been little better than him in admiring one so young for something should know nothing about. For someone like you that has been through the things you have. I'm your guardian and I want things I shouldn't from you."

Albus could have cried with relief. "I know those things whether you acknowledge it or not. You're nothing like him, he forced himself on me, whereas you have always strove to be only the most respect guardian you could. I'm not a child anymore...Draco," the name sounded at once odd and perfect coming from him. He rose and stood behind the man wrapping his arms around his slender waist. "I'm not your son either, and I know you don't see me as one though you protected me as if I were."

"Albus, this cannot be good for you, for either of us." Malfoy sounded weary then and disheartened.

"I know Scor wouldn't mind. He knows how I feel about you."

"Let me guess, you wish to confess your undying love and affection? You are still naive and tender at heart. Still a child, no matter what liberties were taken with your body. What you feel is hero worship at best."

"Perhaps, because you did rescue me, but I don't make any decision lightly, I am a Slytherin might I remind you. Why can't you be my hero and my lover? I want you to erase what he did. I can still feel his hands sometimes, rough and angry. I want you to erase him from my mind, because I know you would never harm me. Please Draco?"

Malfoy's body was quivering faintly, a fine tremor to let Albus know just how far he was pushing the man before him. Draco Malfoy may have been a hero to him, but he was far from saintly man to most, and he could be as deadly as his name sake. "What if I can't give you what you seek, then what? What if you regret it and come to see me as take advantage of you? What do you think others will think?"

"What does it matter? I want to stay here and brew potions with you for now. No one will question that. I'm not asking for you to spout poetry. I want you to touch me." Albus circled around him. He flattened his palms against Malfoy's finely tailored and pressed shirt. "I'm not asking for eternity, I'm asking for some mutual comfort. I won't let it change anything between us."

"Those words are the prophetic death knell of any proper plan, you do realize that?" The blonde smirked wryly.

Albus could barely tear his sight away from Draco's, yes he would have to get use to calling him that even in his head, soft shiny pink lips. He could see a hint of pearly white teeth and smell mint and expensive scotch on his breath. "I've wanted to kiss you for a very long time now Mr. Malfoy. Please let me?"

Silver eyes darkened and Draco's hand rose and clutched at his shoulders. "If I agree to one kiss, we end this discussion at least for tonight, and you give me an uninterrupted chance to think on what you suggest." He was intently focused on Albus's mouth now like a hawk fixing to dive for its prey.

Albus nodded and leaned in before he could change his mind. He brushed his lips against the blonde's, and traced his fingers along Draco's soft jaw. The older man abruptly snatched his body close molding Albus to him like a second skin. He parted his lips and groaned his tongue invading Albus's mouth, darting skillfull against his tongue and teeth.

Albus was half hard until he felt the swell of Draco's erection pressed into his belly, then he was rock hard and moaning, and Merlin help him he might have swooned just a bit into Draco's arms. He refused to break the kiss that was rapid depleting him of oxygen, but eventually Draco pulled back with a great gasping of air his eyes dark and unfocused and running over Albus's body in such a manner he could almost feel his eyes.

"Fuck," Albus gasped into the neck that smell of expensive cologne. Scor and his dad had a secret thing for cologne he had discovered, and they bathed in only the best and most intoxicating blends of it.

Draco chuckled and kissed his temple. "Now you should go to bed Albus. Scor will be home tomorrow night. You'd better get some sleep. I'm sure he will like to spend the whole next day dragging you on shopping trips."

Albus parted himself from Draco with some difficulty. "Promise you'll think about it in seriousness...Draco?" He blushed and shuffled a bit, feeling suddenly insecure.

Draco hugged him once more before bending to whisper "I promise," softly in his ears. Through the chill that traveled down his spine, he felt heartened.

Sleep came easily when he finally returned to his bed.

* * *

Draco groaned and released his cock, casting a quick cleaning charm wandlessly at the mess on his chest and hand. His remorse doubled and he leaned forward to stare at the fire. He was in his own chambers, nude and thoroughly disgusted with himself, and he wondered where he had failed Albus, and if he had failed him.

He wanted to say resoundingly, that yes he had. He should not be wanking over his sexually abused ward. Another part of him hung on every word that Albus had offered up to him. He wasn't his son, he was eighteen, he knew what he wanted, and that want was Draco.

But Draco knew the fact of the matter, he'd admired the beauty of the boy from the first site of him, waiting off to the side of his father. He had been such a small, thin thing, with a mop of shaggy dark brown hair much like his fathers famous mane. His eyes were greener with flecks of amber though, and his skin pale and spotless, and he had the reddest, lushest mouth Draco had ever seen. Like a strawberry waiting to be tasted.

Draco had filed it away then, he might have had inappropriate taste at times, but he had the decency to keep them locked a good deal away from site. Though, truly Albus was the only child to ever elicit such a jolt of desire from him. He was simply too lovely and well mannered to be anything but a joy.

Draco played the flashes of inappropriate thoughts before himself as if looking for flaws. There were few and far between and for all his want he'd never violate a child in the manner that the Ministry's fallen hero had. Draco felt himself drift off into his own share of memories. He remembered the day Harry had stormed the Manor's wards and the truth had come tumbling into the open.

* * *

Draco had woken with the apprehension that something was not right in his home. The wards had alerted him briefly to the slightest intrusion but as much as he searched them he could find no disturbances. He laid in his large empty bed ill at ease until he was on the brink of drifting back off and that was when the explosion of accidental magic ripped through the house.

Albus abruptly began to scream far down the hall, next to Scorpius's suite. Draco burst from bed clad in only thin silk sleeping pants and barreled out of his room. Scorpius was running towards Albus door beating on the bowing, bucking piece of thick, fine timber. The walls quivered angrily, and the floor beneath Draco pitched forward as if hurrying him along. Albus door flew open no sooner than he made it there.

He pushed past the incredible amount of magic whirling crazily around the room. It nearly lifted him from his feet and he grasped at doorframe trying to see past debris and furniture gyrating in the air. Two magical energy signatures dueled against one another while their owners wrestled on the bed.

Draco would never forget the rage that built in his chest and exploded out of him that day when he saw Harry Potter rutting like a wild beast between his sons bloody thighs. Albus's face was a mess of tears, snot, and blood; his mouth opened in a silent scream so terrified, Draco feared he'd simply die with the enormity of the emotion. Worse than anything the thing that had thrown him into action was the ragged pleads the boy yelled over and over and over. It had broken and fractured something in him to see that much despair from the fifteen year old boy, it had reminded him of the desperation he had felt at the same age, underneath Voldemort.

Draco screamed and threw himself at the madman on the boy. He rolled with him knocking Potter off the bed his anger overtaking him, and transforming him. He hit Potter, everywhere he could touch him, he broke his skin and perhaps his bones. He didn't need magic for this, he wouldn't use magic for this, he wanted to break Potter more than he had ever before, but for all the right reasons this time.

Draco was still unsure exactly how Albus and Scorpius had pried him off Potter before he had killed him, but it had been a narrow thing and Potter had been dying when he reached the hospital. Draco would have gladly gone to jail, and considered it well worth it. But he had because Albus had testified under Veritaserum and Draco had been releas and Potter abruptly confined to the psychiatric ward of Azakaban. He was declared mentally ill from damage taken from housing Voldemort's final Horcrux. Draco hoped he rotted.

* * *

Draco shook the memory off and rose. No, he was nothing like that. He had been attracted, but he had waited and patiently bade his time, and had let Albus flower and blossom on his own time. He had ever and would never entertain such fantasies to hurt people for his pleasure, or to take what wouldn't be willingly given.

Draco left his room with his mind fully made. He had taken a shower, and he had prepared himself, and now he walked to the suite of rooms now sandwiched directly between his and Scorpius's, Albus's rooms ever since that night.  
He knocked somewhat nervously. Dawn was just breaking outside and he briefly thought surely Albus was asleep now, but just as he went to turn away the door opened up and Albus peeked out.

"Mr-Draco? Is something the matter?" He asked quietly.

"May I come in and speak with you? I'm sorry its dreadfully early but I simply couldn't wait."

Albus opened the door almost shyly and closed it behind him. He walked calmly back to the large four poster and sat on the edge. "You've made a decision then?"

Draco couldn't resist a small at the small pout, Albus didn't expect good news obviously so he strode calmly forward and kissed the boy with much love and affection as he could muster. "Yes, I don't want you to ever remember the horrid things that happen in your past. You aren't my son, but I do love you and feel great affection for you. If I can help you by excepting the gift of your trust in me, then I can give you this."

Albus growled and crushed his mouth to the older mans. "You don't think I'm dirty? You don't think I'm bad because I want to do this with you?"

Draco pulled Albus into his arms. "No, I shouldn't have implied it. You are of age and I trust you to know your mind. Never dirty Albus, what was done to you should never have happened. Someone should have noticed something was wrong, someone should have done something. But let's forget that now. I want to be the one to show you what it could be like." And he proceeded to make love so thoroughly to Albus that surely with enough time the boy would eventually learn to get past the horror of his childhood.

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Just something that came to me while I was reading some darker fics. It may just stay a oneshot or it may become more later. I wanted to jot it down before the I forgot the idea. I know bad Harry and all that but I wanted Draco to get all the props here anyway. If you like let me know. Thanks for reading.


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